


Deniable Hunger

by Fear_my_R0D



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Guard of Priwen - Freeform, M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Some kills, The Ascalon Club, Vampire Geoffrey McCullum, but Jonathan didn't turn him, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-22 11:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fear_my_R0D/pseuds/Fear_my_R0D
Summary: Geoffrey disregards instructions, becomes a vampire from King Arthur's blood. Honestly, this is what you get when you burn down a library that contains more detailed instructions.Based on the ending where Jonathan and Elisabeth lock themselves in the crypt. Jonathan goes back to London to collect his supplies, but finds his mother kidnapped and once again gets drawn into the chaos of vampires running amok in the aftermath of the infection. This time he finds an unlikely ally in a former enemy.





	1. Prologue

Geoffrey’s vision swam and his knees threatened to buckle under his weight as he forced his legs to move. Rage was the only thing keeping him going, pushing him to get back to the theater and stop the damned leech from killing off his men.

_“I’ll spare you, McCullum,”_ Reid’s words echoed through Geoffrey’s head as he stumbled through the streets of a dying London.

Why? Why would the leech spare him? Was it so he could gloat about his success later? Because he saw Geoffrey and the Guard of Priwen as so little a threat, there was no point to killing him?

Geoffrey grit his teeth. He’d regroup and kill the bastard before he had the chance to finish his evil plans. The infection would not overtake this city! The blood of King Arthur wasn’t enough to defeat Reid. Maybe he had the dosage wrong. The Guard didn’t have much left on the blood, just a document explaining how it grants strength with a drop, but should be used sparingly. The rest had been lost, or perhaps those cowards in the Brotherhood had it. Either way, he’d taken more than a few drops before and during the fight. He’d felt the strength of it course through him, but not for long enough. Perhaps more was needed.

The familiar shrieks of the crazed leeches reached his ears. They were coming from the small street he needed to pass through in order to get back to the theater. The space was small, with abandoned buildings left to rot on either side, creating a bottleneck that would be impossible to get through without killing the bastards.

Geoffrey cursed his injuries and his stupidity. He shouldn’t have come alone, even if he couldn’t spare any men to accompany him that night. Andrew was right, even one other guard would have been better than none. With his battered body, it would be difficult to take down even one bloody leech. Sneaking up to the corner to peek around, he saw that there were two of them clustered right in the middle of the narrow street. The ambient lighting from the bright moon in the blessedly cloudless sky and a nearby gaslight were just enough for him to make out their grotesque forms huddled around the long-gone remains of a London citizen, ripping at the body with their claws and shoving the flesh into their mouths.

Geoffrey grimaced, bitter bile rising in the back of his throat. No matter how many times he encountered sights like these, the disgust he felt never lessened. Bloody depraved creatures, all of them needed to be exterminated.

Geoffrey loaded up the crossbow strapped to his arm as silently as he could and drew his sword. He could stun one with a well-placed shot, and then rush the other one before it had time to react. He raised the crossbow and winced at the stabbing pain in his shoulder. No way he’d pull that off with the state he was currently in. Even just running would be impossible.

But…he eyed the flask hanging on his belt. There was still plenty of the Guard’s relic left. If he took more, then he’d get the strength that he needed to get through this fight. Keeping his eyes on the ragged figures preoccupied with ripping apart the body a few meters in front of him, Geoffrey slowly unhooked the flask from his belt and took a quick swig. He winced at the cold, metallic taste as the liquid passed his tongue. But the discomfort was worth it as he could already feel a swell of energy rising and the pain of his injuries fading to the background.

He put the flask away and took a few seconds for careful aim at the back of the leech on the left. Without waiting to see if the bolt hit its mark, he rushed forward to behead the other as it was rising from its kneeling position. The sword cut through easily with the momentum he’d built up, and Geoffrey quickly turned to finish off the other one. He quickly registered that the bolt had struck the leech’s back but hadn’t gone through. It brought its claws up to swipe at him as Geoffrey was raising his sword. With King Arthur’s blood, he was faster and his sword cut through its neck. Geoffrey rolled away from the spray of blood to avoid infection.

The leech had fallen to the ground, but was struggling to get back up with one hand holding its throat as blood seeped out of the deep gash. Geoffrey’s sword had cut deep, but not enough to sever the spinal cord. Geoffrey struggled to get back to his feet, but all of his earlier speed was drained. The relic had left him weaker than before he’d used it somehow, and worse hadn’t even lasted for a full minute. Too much was apparently worse than too little. Geoffrey cursed his hastiness, but would have to deal with the struggling leech in front of him before ruminating more on his foolishness.

He staggered over to the creature on wobbly knees. The world was tilting and he had to blink hard to focus on the creature struggling to get up. It had suddenly gotten a lot darker than before, the low lighting was little to help his vision now. He managed to take the few steps to get close enough to finish the creature off.

With arms that felt as if they’d suddenly atrophied, he raised the sword to strike a blow on the stunned leech. The first knocked it back to the ground, but hit the head instead of the neck. It took two more blows, each harder to perform than the last, to fully separate the head.

Geoffrey staggered back, almost collapsing until he stuck his sword into the cobbled street and leaned heavily on it. Distantly, he thought that Geoffrey tried to shake off the sudden dizziness, but wasn’t able to. His vision was blurring, and it seemed that the edges of his vision were darkening, not the lights. There was no way he’d make it back to the theater like this, or any other outpost of the Guard for that matter. But he couldn’t collapse on the street, he’d be carrion for any leeches that came across him.

He eyed the door to the nearest dwelling. It was hard to tell for sure through the blurred dark haze, but he thought it looked blessedly open. He staggered towards it, barely keeping himself upright. With every step, he thought his legs would give up on supporting him, but through sheer willpower he made it to the door and collapsed into the doorframe. With a shaking hand he wrenched it open the rest of the way, and pushed himself through the doorway, landing on the floor with one arm braced in front of him. A jolt of pain arced through it and he groaned, just lying still.

As he lied on the floor, he started thinking about how nice it would be to close his eyes and drift to sleep right here. Somewhere, in the back of his mind he was terrified at this notion. Something was very wrong, the back of his mind screamed at him. He forced his eyes to remain open, although everything was so dark it hardly made a difference, and slapped the floorboards with a hand to push himself to his knees.

He needed to at least close the door before he passed out. Blindly, he reached behind him for the open door and pulled it until he heard the click of the latch.

Then he let himself collapse, what little strength he had left leaving him. Geoffrey blinked slowly, even though it no longer made any difference whether his eyes were opened or closed. He struggled to remain conscious as his heart crashed through his chest. With the adrenaline gone, his body felt like one throbbing mass of pain.

What was happening to him? This was worse than any sort of rebound effect. Had he been hit without noticing it? He didn’t even have the strength to move his arms and check for injuries. Was he dying? Even drawing air into his lungs was becoming too much of a struggle.

It was too hard to think, and that black void calling to him was so appealing right now. The alarm bells in the back of his head were quieting as everything was shutting down.

This was death. It was a certainty there was no turning away from. Even though he knew his end was unavoidable, he struggled futilely against the void.

He couldn’t die now. Who would protect London from this scourge nobody else knew the source of. The memory of Reid insisting that they were on the same side, and he was trying to stop the infection surfaced. Maybe it wasn’t a trick, he hoped as the void wrapped around him and dragged him into its endless depths.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey figures shit out after waking as a vampire.  
> And my chapter count gets off. Oh well, "Chapter Two: Chapter One" it is I guess.

The ear shattering shriek pierced through the shroud of a dreamless sleep. Geoffrey bolted up, gasping for air as if he’d been holding his breath in his sleep.

His stomach ached from an emptiness far greater than any of the nights he’d gone hungry before. He got up un legs that were unsteady from being folded under him all night and tried to ignore the gnawing pain in his stomach to take stock of his surroundings. It was difficult to concentrate on anything but his hunger and dry throat, but Carl Eldritch, the former leader of the Guard of Priwen, had done well in training him to always be aware of his surroundings.

The house he was in was unfamiliar, and obviously abandoned. Whether previous occupants had succumbed to plague or war was hard to say in these times. He was right in front of a battered up door, and the single window on the tiny first floor was boarded up. Geoffrey tried to remember how he’d come to fall asleep in a random abandoned dwelling, but couldn’t concentrate on the memory with the hunger gnawing at him. It was as if his mind was stuck in a haze that he just couldn’t shake off.

A shiny glint caught his eye, and he bent to pick up his sword. It was stained with dried blood, which meant he must have been fighting. Had he been injured? The only pain he felt at the moment came from his empty stomach and sand-dry throat.

Geoffrey blinked, and the blood on the sword suddenly seemed to glow. He looked around and saw a few glowing splatters on the ground near where the sword had been dropped, then to the door. His eyes locked on a large figure that was made of glowing red lines tracing themselves to a bright slowly throbbing center. The slow thrumming enthralled him and without thinking he opened the door out to a narrow road.

From far away, he noted that the pulsing was one of the crazed leeches, bent over a corpse. But the details hardly mattered, certainly not enough to penetrate the haze of hunger. The only thing that mattered was that vibrant essence running through its body.

Geoffrey stumbled towards the leech, who turned around as soon as Geoffrey’s clumsy footsteps reached its ears. It screeched and sprang at him. Geoffrey grit his teeth and shrank away from the loud sound that felt like needles piercing his eardrums.

The impact from the leech easily knocked the stunned hunter down, and he yelled when the creature bit into his neck. The pain was enough to shock him out of the slow haze for long enough that he pushed the leech off, rolled them over, and was able to pin it to the ground.

The beast thrashed below him, but all Geoffrey could focus on was the vibrant life singing below its skin. He could see it clearly, but he needed to get to it. He bit into the creature’s neck on instinct and was rewarded with a warm rush of its intoxicating essence.

He drank deeply, desperate for more blood to sate his thirst. However, the source was wrenched away from him when the damned leech pushed him off. Geoffrey snarled and instinctively grabbed his sword, which had fallen to the ground next to him. He lunged, thrusting the sword into the retreating leech’s shoulder and kicked its knees out from under it. The speed and strength with which he carried out the maneuver exhilarated him.

The creature fell, and Geoffrey wasted no time pinning it down again to return to that flowing stream of blood. He hardly felt the creature’s weakening blows and continued to drink until finally the pain in his stomach was satisfied. He let go and was stunned by the rush of power the blood gave him before his mind snapped out of the haze and reality hit him hard as a brick wall.

Geoffrey jumped away from his victim in disgust. The leech looked the same as other leeches infesting the city—so rotten and covered in rags that any individual feature was impossible to discern. Geoffrey wiped at the blood staining his mouth frantically, but the tantalizing taste lingered.

What the fuck had happened? How had he become a bloodsucking leech all of a sudden? He raked a hand through his hair as he tried to piece together the jumbled memories. He’d fought Reid, and fucking lost. And then the bloody leech had spared him for some unfathomable reason.

_“You can’t accept the fact that we’re not enemies, can you?”_   the memory of Reid’s posh Londoner accent echoed through his mind. Geoffrey frowned and pushed aside figuring out whether the vampire was playing some sort of trick for later.

His thoughts went to what happened afterwards, and he groaned at the realization of one of the apparent effects of King Arthur’s blood. There wasn’t any other explanation, less than a minute after drinking that second dose and he’d begun to weaken. Just like what the books described of the leech transformation.

How could he be so stupid? Testing the blood on himself had been something Priwen’s lead doctor and all of his captains had been against. He’d trusted a few text fragments out of a desperation to end the infestation, and now here he was.

Who would have even thought that King Arthur’s blood was vampire blood? Was that why the past two leaders of the Guard hadn’t been using it? Did Carl know and neglect to tell him? All he’d said of it was that it was the Guard’s most precious relic, the blood of a great warrior. In hindsight, maybe he should have been more suspicious of blood that’s supposed to impart powers on those who drink it.

Geoffrey sighed. There wasn’t much use in wondering about the how right now. The most important question was what the fuck would he do about it?

He got back on his feet and pulled his sword out of the leech he’d killed. He grimaced at the sight of its flesh torn at the neck, a reminder of what he’d become. Thank the Lord it had been a vampire, not a human that he’d come across first. And he’d taken it down quickly while being lost in the hunger.

Geoffrey kneeled to wipe off his sword on what was left of the dirty shirt the dead beast wore while he thought about what he would do. There was an expectation, being in the Guard, that were one to ever become a beast, he should do the honorable deed and offer himself up for extermination to the rest of the Guard. Better dead than a leech, was the sentiment that members of the Guard shared. Geoffrey had also firmly believed that he’d rather be dead than become the same creature that his father and brother had—beasts that slaughtered innocents to sustain themselves. The monsters turned on even their loved ones indiscriminately.

He didn’t want to be that. But he wasn’t that, not yet at least. He hadn’t killed any humans, but he sure had taken out another beast quickly. He could feel his new strength coursing through his veins, and the night vision, the heightened senses…he’d be able to take down so many more of them now. To turn their own weapons against them would be such a poetic ending for the beasts.

Geoffrey stood up and put his sword back in the scabbard. The idea brought back a memory of something he’d come across in one of the books the Guard had. It was a type of vampire, one who hunts his own. A vampire who could hide his nature from vampires and humans alike. If he could find out more information on these beasts, then he could keep leading the Guard and kill those murderous leeches that much more effectively. Vampires were creatures of deceit, after all.

Geoffrey frowned and began a brisk walk through the streets, keeping alert for any other leeches or his own men. Until he knew that his nature was well concealed, he didn’t want any of the Guard to see him.

Unfortunately, he knew exactly where he could find more information besides Priwen headquarters. And he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the cowards of the Brotherhood, especially not the Primate who he suspected was a vampire. But with no other choice, he dodged past his patrols to get to Temple Church, even getting some chances to test his new abilities on some of the crazed vampires he came across.

After what felt like a few hours, he finally got across town. He had to have run across at least 20 of the beasts on the way, which he took as a sign of the dire straights the city was getting in if the damned infestation of leeches wasn’t solved soon. As he walked, he thought back on Reid’s words and actions.

When he put them all together and looked at them without letting his biases get in the way, he had to admit that the vampire seemed to be trying to stop the epidemic. Although the start of it all—Doris Fletcher’s mother, Harriet Jones—could be traced back to the Pembroke Hospital and Edgar Swansea, a member of a club full of vampire sympathizers, was still troubling. But Reid sparing Geoffrey made no sense if he were really the vampire behind the infestation. Even if the vampire didn’t see him as a threat, it’d been clear that Geoffrey and the Guard of Priwen greatly agitated him. Instead of killing him, Reid had spared him, insisting they were on the same side, and it just didn’t make sense that it was a ruse of some sort.

Perhaps he’d been too hasty with his conclusions. After all, there was that niggling detail that Reid had only become a vampire after the infestation had already begun. Even if William Marshall—who still hadn’t been spotted—had turned Reid to help spread the epidemic, it was clear that Reid had turned against him at some point. Or maybe it was all wrong, and William Marshall wasn’t even involved at all. Fuck if he knew at this point.

Geoffrey could face the fact that he’d been wrong about Reid being behind the epidemic. Probably. Which brought him back to Swansea because there was still something suspicious there. It couldn’t be a coincidence the epidemic began at the same hospital that was run by a rather enthusiastic fan of vampires. His men should have answers from Swansea when he returned to the theater.

But before that, he needed to deal with Usher Talltree, the Primate of Saint Paul’s Stole. Standing at the top of the stairs which led to Temple Church’s basement, Geoffrey sighed again. He’d met with the man on a few occasions before the war to attempt to get access to some of the Brotherhood’s resources. None of those meetings had gone smoothly, and he’d never liked the suspicious man. He was hiding something—likely many things—Geoffrey was sure of it. Not to mention all the hocus pocus and card reading. In world threatened by real beasts hidden in the shadows, there was no time to bother with superstitious nonsense.

Quickly, he double checked that there was no more blood around his mouth and that his fangs were still hidden. It had been a relief to discover that the sharp teeth went away after he’d sated his awful thirst on a few ghouls.

Assured that he looked as close to human as possible, he started down the stairs slowly. Maybe now, with his new condition, he’d be able to tell if the man was a vampire or not.

The basement reminded Geoffrey of a tomb, with the carefully carved white stone and seclusion. The only lighting came from candles burning down to stumps, and wooden boards and crumbled stone were lying about. Hell, this place was a church, so there likely were people buried here. As always Geoffrey frowned at how a few of the floor tiles pressed down and he wondered at what their purpose might be.

“What does the Guard of Priwen seek now, McCullum? Perhaps another member of our Brotherhood to torture a confession out of?” Usher was sitting at his desk in the back of the room, staring Geoffrey down with a very unamused expression.

Geoffrey bit back his annoyance. “I will not be ashamed of doing what must be done to stop this infestation of beasts. But you need not fear, for I do not have reason to suspect you in all of this,” Geoffrey stated as he strode up to the desk. He stopped and placed his hands on the desk. “I am here on another matter.”

The Primate stared Geoffrey down, letting the pause linger for longer than was comfortable before responding, “A matter more important than the epidemic? I supposed I must listen to such a pressing matter.”

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes at the sarcastic tone in Talltree’s words, but decided to ignore it for now. “I need access to any information on a type of vampire that hunts his own kind you might possess.”

“Ah, you’re referring to the Nimrod I assume? Yes, I believe I’ve seen a few documents relating to these vampires in the Brotherhood’s library,” Talltree said. He made no motion to get up and retrieve the documents he spoke of. Instead he continued to pin Geoffrey with a mildly hostile stare, hands folded in front of him.

Well, it’s not as if the hunter had expected this to go easily. The last times he’d requested documents, he’d been refused. Granted, the Guard had a long history of doing the same when anyone from the Brotherhood requested their materials.

Geoffrey chose his words carefully, hating every moment of this conversation. “I would appreciate it if you would allow me to read through some of those documents. It shouldn’t take much of your time,” he said in the politest tone he could muster and forced a smile that wouldn’t fool even the daftest of people.

“Although Nimrods may be of interest to someone in your…circumstances, I fail to see how the safety of London hangs on you learning more of them,” Talltree responded, the same unimpressed look on his face, but Geoffrey swore he saw his lips twist into a smirk for a short moment.

Panic began to rise in Geoffrey’s gut. What did Talltree know of his circumstances? Did he suspect something? How? Geoffrey swallowed it all down. There was no way he could know, he must be referring to something else. “I’m not sure what you mean in regards to my circumstances, but I have reason to believe that such a vampire might be a part of the infestation,” he lied.

The Primate smiled, obviously not believing the lie. “The cards have told me of some interesting facts regarding this meeting tonight.” He picked up one of the cards spread out in front of him and examined it. “Very interesting indeed,” he mused and flicked his gaze back to Geoffrey.

Geoffrey didn’t like that gaze which seemed to see straight through him. He shook off his mounting unease and scoffed. “I didn’t come hear for any superstitious nonsense. Are you willing to make a deal for the information, or not?” he asked, done with being indirect and polite. The politics were one of the worst parts of being a leader.

“Hmmm,” the man set the card back down where it was. Geoffrey glanced at the card out of curiosity and saw that its focal point was a skeleton on a white horse carrying a black flag. Beneath it were people lying dead, and before it people clasped their hands together as if begging before it. _Death. Such nonsense_ , he thought in spite of the unease that was still growing in his gut.

“I have to say, it is amusing to hear a zealot vampire hunter describe something as ‘superstitious nonsense’.” Geoffrey opened his mouth to respond, but Talltree continued on without waiting for a response this time, “I suppose if you are so desperate for information, we can work something out.”

Geoffrey glared at the Primate. He didn’t like where this was going, but he also didn’t have much of a choice at the moment. It wasn’t as if he could call his men to do a raid right now, and even if he were able, they could hardly spare the manpower. Unfortunately, there was nothing about Usher Talltree that undeniably said vampire to him—his heart beat at a normal rate and he didn’t smell like the leeches he’d come across. Geoffrey wouldn’t kill a human, no matter how much they tried his patience, so that was off the table.

“What do you want in return?” Geoffrey ground out, hating every part of the question.

“Well, if you are to be allowed access to our resources, then it is only fair that we be allowed access to the Guard’s resources, is it not?”

Geoffrey had expected something like this, so he was already prepared to accept. Although he wouldn’t be looking forward to seeing more of the Brotherhood cowards. “Fine. Now if you would show me these documents?”

“Don’t be so hasty, I’m not quite done stating my terms yet. As the preservation of knowledge is my top priority, I must also request that you call off your Great Hunt,” Talltree spat the last words with obvious distaste.

“Are you mad? You want me to stop the Great Hunt in the middle of the beasts’ invasion of London? Now more than ever, it’s important we kill as many as we can to stop the beasts from slaughtering more innocents! I will not sit back and watch all of London fall to them!” Geoffrey slammed his hands down on the desk to accentuate his points.

“Calm down, Mr. McCullum. I do not ask that you let vampires kill innocents, I only ask that you stop killing them indiscriminately. There are Ekons trying to stop the epidemic as we speak. You should know that best of all!”

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean by that,” he said defensively. There was no way that the Primate could know about him. He ran his tongue over his eye teeth to double check that the fangs had receded. Perhaps his anger had caused them to come out, but they remained hidden as normal canines.

“…I’ve heard rumors that you’ve encountered the new Ekon, Jonathan Reid. Surely by now you can agree that he is doing all he can to save the people of London,” the Primate said after watching Geoffrey panic for a moment.

Relief washed through the hunter. _That’s_ what he was talking about. “That seems to be the case, yes.” He thought it over. It made more sense to focus on the beasts who were currently harming innocents right now, he supposed. As much as he’d like to see all the leeches eradicated, there should be priorities. Although even after becoming a vampire himself, he doubted that a beast could live leaving innocents unharmed. But it was still a logical conclusion that those dealing the most harm should be put down first.

“Alright,” Geoffrey decided. “I’ll call of the Great Hunt, and I’ll let the Brotherhood have access, under my supervision, to our books and relics. But I’ll not stop protecting innocent lives from the insidious scourge of the beasts.”

“Then we have a deal,” the Primate said and scooted his chair back from his desk to walk over to the wooden door on the side of the room. “I’ll just be a moment,” he told Geoffrey before disappearing into the other room.

True to his word, Geoffrey didn’t have to wait long before the Primate returned with a few papers. He handed them to the hunter. Geoffrey took the three pages and frowned.

“This is it?”

“Well, this is all we have besides just brief mentions of them. Nimrods _are_ the most elusive type of vampire by nature, so much of what we have on them is conjecture.” The Primate returned to his desk. “You’re welcome to take them with you. They’re only a copy of notes that have been taken on the books we already have.”

Geoffrey skimmed through the first page. Although it wasn’t much to go on, it was more than he had currently. He nodded at Talltree and brusquely thanked him before turning to leave.

“Oh, and one last thing, McCullum!”

Geoffrey stopped, and half turned back towards the Primate.

“The cards say that an open mind is the key to getting through…the changes you’ve been experiencing,” the Primate advised.

Geoffrey froze and did his best to push the panic of being discovered back down. “I don’t know what you mean by changes, and I don’t care much for riddles right now,” he threw back at the Primate and left quickly.

He folded the notes and placed them in his jacket pocket to read later. He had what he needed to get his life back on track now. Although lying to his men for the rest of his life didn’t appeal to him, it was better than the alternative of leaving the Guard of Priwen to fall apart without leadership.

Priwen must prevail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost got this one up within a week. Although finals are coming up soon, so I might end up missing a week in the near future.  
> That interaction between Geoffrey and Usher Talltree was surprisingly fun to write.  
> Next chapter will switch to Jonathan's POV, and that will be the last chapter that happens during the game. I just have a few more things to set up on Jonathan's side before I can get to the actual story.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan encounters a random enemy and has a talk with his new progeny in the last chapter that takes place during the game.

Was it possible to walk five steps without running into some sort of enemy? Jonathan glared from his hiding place around the corner at the dark-haired Ekon standing in front of the bridge with his curved sword drawn.

All night Jonathan had been running around London to find what he needed for the cure, and every step of the way he’d been stopped by some Skals or the Guard of Priwen or random Ekons like the one standing in his way now. He didn’t have time for this!

All he had left to grab was insulin from the Pembroke, and he could put together the serum which he hoped to God would work. This should be the easiest ingredient to get, but it was shaping up to be more difficult than breaking into the Ascalon Club or convincing Geoffrey McCullum to give him King Arthur’s blood just from having to walk across the city.

He thought back on the conversation he’d had with the hunter. He was pleasantly surprised when McCullum didn’t attack him on sight. Progress was made with the man indeed perhaps.

There was something…oddly alluring about the hunter, even if the man hated his guts. Jonathan couldn’t quite place what it was. McCullum was attractive, sure, but it was more the fire behind his eyes. Even though that fire was mostly hatred directed at Jonathan for being a vampire. Although when he’d met with the man to get King Arthur’s blood, he’d seemed more subdued than usual. A bit paler. Jonathan hoped he hadn’t caught the flu or some other sickness. Why he was so concerned about a man who’d like to kill him was a bit baffling…

He shook thoughts of McCullum out of his head to focus on the problem at hand: getting across the bridge. He vaguely recognized the Ekon in front of it from the Ascalon Club. Ever since he’d refused to turn Aloysius Dawson, vampires from the club had been attacking him left and right. He’d thought it was because Lord Redgrave gave the order, but all of them had been yelling about avenging a Lord Finney—or possibly Finley. The name was entirely unfamiliar to Jonathan, but it wasn’t as though his assailants normally introduced themselves to him before trying to kill him.

He drew Dragonbane and a revolver from where it was hanging on his belt, hidden behind his long coat. Despite the puzzle he’d solved to get the sword, the bludgeon was still his favorite weapon even though it was far too slow against Ekons. After taking a moment to ready himself, Jonathan sprang at the Ekon seeming to leave behind a trail of black shadows in his path.

The surprise hit was enough to stun the Ekon and knock him to the ground. Without missing a beat, Jonathan wrenched him up by his black hair and tore into his throat. The delicious essence that he’d come to both love and hate flooded into his mouth and Jonathan had to fight to not lose himself in the ecstasy of it.

All too soon the Ekon regained his senses and shoved Jonathan away. He shadow jumped back and lifted his arm as if beckoning to something in a move that Jonathan knew well. “This is for Finney, you fuckwit!” the Ekon shouted as the ground beneath Jonathan turned black.

Jonathan dashed out of the way in time to avoid most of the damage from the spikes of shadow erupting from the ground. However, a small bit stabbed through his leg and knocked him down. Again with this Finney person! “I don’t even know who you’re talking about!” Jonathan yelled. Of course, by now he’d learned that trying to reason with these people was pointless, the defense was instinctual at this point.

The Ekon shouted his rage and came at Jonathan with his curved blade. He swung, rather wildly, which made it easy for Jonathan to roll out of the way and get back on his feet. He winced at the pain in his leg. It was healing, but probably wouldn’t be fully healed for another minute or so. He raised his sword to deflect the Ekon’s continuous slashes.

Although the Ekon’s swings were fast and forceful, they were clumsy and unpracticed with more force than necessary behind them. It wouldn’t be long before he tired himself out, Jonathan thought as he swung Dragonbane in front of himself, countering the Ekon’s blows slowly letting the other vampire gain ground. They were steadily moving back towards the cobbled bridge, and Jonathan made sure to stay aware of where the edge was so he wouldn’t fall off.

His assumptions proved correct as the Ekon’s swings began slow, and his pants showed his fatigue. On his next wide upswing, Jonathan shot the Ekon with his revolver that he’d been holding in his left hand. As always, he aimed center mass to hit the Ekon in his chest. The shot went a bit wide, clipping through the shoulder that wasn’t handling the sword instead. He hated having to aim with his left hand.

The shot was still enough to stop the Ekon’s attack, making him stagger back and drop his raised sword arm. That was enough for Jonathan to get in an attack with his sword and he slashed across the vampire’s belly, then lunged to stab him straight through the heart. Unfortunately, he missed the heart a bit since the Ekon jerked away at the last moment and slashed into his side instead. Still, judging by the gush of blood that splashed from the gash in his stomach, the Ekon would be slowed unless he got blood.

“Bloody bastard!” the vampire shouted and jumped at Jonathan with his sword raised in front of him to slash again.

The clumsy attack was predictable and Jonathan shadow-stepped to the side to avoid it. However, since Jonathan was standing close to the edge of the bridge, the Ekon’s jump brought him right over the edge and he landed with a sickening crunch on the hard stones of the street below.

The anguished cries of the vampire confirmed Jonathan’s suspicions that he’d survived the fall. “I swear by all that is sacred that I will kill you, murderer!” the Ekon’s voice was full of a desperate rage that seemed to cut through to the bone. Jonathan shuddered.

He didn’t know what he’d done to cause that sort of anguish in the vampire, but he didn’t have the time to stick around and find out. Besides, the Ekon’s attempts at fighting him were a kind of inept desperation that was more pitiable than threatening. So, Jonathan chose not to take the time to go down and finish the Ekon off and sprinted across the bridge to continue to the Pembroke.

He didn’t encounter any more delays on his way, although he had to use rooftops and balconies to get by Priwen Guards patrolling the area. It didn’t seem right killing them after his sort of truce with McCullum—even if they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Not that he wouldn’t defend himself if they attacked, but for the moment he would do his best not to provoke them. The darkest part of him despised that sentiment, but Jonathan ignored it. He’d let that part of him control his actions more than he’d liked in the past week he’d been a vampire.

First, he’d go up and ask Edgar where the hospital kept the insulin. He rushed through the lobby, only briefly returning greetings as he passed the patients and his colleagues. The hospital was a mess as always, but he’d grown a bit fond of the disarray. It was better than the conditions he had to perform surgeries in on the Front, at least.

He didn’t bother knocking on the administrator’s door and simply barged in.

Edgar, who was sitting at his desk looking over some papers, stood up to greet him. “Jonathan, my dear! How have you been tonight?” he asked cheerfully, a wide smile on his face.

“Hello, Edgar,” Jonathan replied, slightly annoyed at the man’s cheer while Jonathan was in the middle of cleaning up a Skal epidemic that had been started by him. “It’s been a productive night. I’ve come closer to finding a way to end this epidemic, but I require some insulin. The Pembroke must have it in stock somewhere?”

“That’s marvelous news, Jonathan! I believe we keep insulin in the morgue with most of the other medicine. Although I must ask, what will you be using it for?”

Jonathan explained the cure that he found, and how he figured out the function of garlic could be more effectively produced with insulin.

“How fascinating,” Edgar said. “I wonder how the blood plays a role in the whole formula. Oh, the mysterious properties of vampire blood just waiting to be discovered! Do you perhaps have any spare samples of William Marshall’s and King Arthur’s blood? I’d love to try to figure out the secrets they hold!”

Jonathan ground his teeth. The last thing he was going to do was give the fool more powerful Ekon blood to play with. “No, I’m afraid I’ve used it all for the cure I need to solve the problem you created. But you’re welcome to ask Geoffrey McCullum or the Ascalon Club for a sample yourself,” Jonathan said darkly.

Edgar frowned. “Come now, Jonathan. You know I was only trying to cure influenza. The research on the healing properties of vampire blood was out there! I only tried to refine it and test it--”

“Enough! I didn’t come here to discuss this matter again. Your carelessness created something much worse than the disease you sought to cure, Edgar.” Jonathan decided being blunt was the best course of action. If he were honest with himself, he really shouldn’t have turned Edgar. He was too careless and enthusiastic about vampires. But even after everything he’d done, the man was still one of the only friends he had now besides Lady Ashbury. He wasn’t cold enough to leave him to die in the theatre basement.

Jonathan had meant becoming a vampire to be the torture it was for him, but it was clear that Edgar did not see things the same way. And now Jonathan would be responsible for anything his ethically dubious progeny did.

At least Edgar had the decency to appear shamed by the results of his unethical experimentation, shifting his weight between his feet and darting glances around the room as if he’d find an escape. “I told you that I’ll only experiment on myself from now on, and I meant it, Jonathan. But you must know that I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jonathan glared at his progeny who was looking at him with brown eyes full of hope. He sighed. “I know, Edgar. But I will warn you that if you mess up again then I will not help you out of it. In fact, I may personally point McCullum to where you are staying,” Jonathan said, his tone not leaving any wiggle room for his progeny. He probably wouldn’t go that far, but some extra incentive to stay on his best behavior couldn’t hurt. At least he didn’t have to worry about Sean Hampton doing anything like this.

Edgar sputtered, hurt crossing his eyes. “You’d betray me to those fanatical war dogs? I must say, that hurts coming from you, my friend.”

“I meant turning you to be punishment, Edgar. If you do not exercise caution with your new life, then I am certain it will quickly become one.” Jonathan paused to make sure his words sank in. “Now, I must take my leave for now. Goodbye, Edgar. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

“I wish you luck with the serum, Jonathan,” Edgar mumbled, still not quite recovered from his sire’s threats.

With that finished, Jonathan left to finish the serum and defeat the Disaster once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late. But I have two chapters for you, so I kind of caught up. I've got one more big paper I need to write for classes, so the next update might be late as well. But then it'll be winter break so I'll have more free time.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After promising to stay locked in a crypt with Lady Ashbury, Jonathan returns to London for one night to grab his stuff and wrap up loose ends. But something unexpected waits for him at home.

The night was dark with any of the light from stars covered by clouds and fog. The moon was in hiding tonight as well, and only the occasional gas lamp and his headlights illuminated the city. Luckily, Jonathan no longer required light in order to see. Nor did the chill air bother him as it rushed past the windshield of the automobile as he raced through the narrow streets as fast as he dared.

He stopped and parked in front of the rundown, but vital Pembroke. He took a moment to study the hospital and its iron gates, the scaffolding on the sides that still waited for workers to finish repairs. After the toll of the epidemic and Great War, Jonathan guessed that it would be a while before it was ever finished. That is, if the rumors and accusations didn’t force it to shut down first.

He reflected on his first night as an Ekon, and what a godsend the hospital had been. Giving him a purpose and a place to stay when he was so lost as to what he would do. How things had changed since that night, even though it’d been a little more than a week.

Only a week and he’d had to adjust to his new condition while figuring out how to save London from an ancient hatred. His final fight with Harriet and then the Red Queen had gone surprisingly smooth, and he thanked the stars that the antidote had worked.

Then he’d had to go to a remote castle to find the woman who’d been his closest friend after he was turned and stop her from taking her own life. He remembered that moment of panic when he’d thought nothing he said could stop her, and then the relief when she agreed that she wouldn’t do it if they stayed locked in that crypt until he improved the cure for the Blood of Hate which she was a carrier of.

This would be the last time he saw London for what he assumed would be a long while. He only had one night to get his medical supplies and notes and to tie up as many loose ends as possible. He wasn’t looking forward to staying in that crypt, but he wouldn’t abandon his closest friend. He wouldn’t have survived—London wouldn’t have survived—if Elisabeth hadn’t helped him those first days when he so desperately needed it. She was a good soul, and she didn’t deserve any of this.

Besides, maybe it was for the best that he lock himself away from humans. He’d killed two people for their blood and had justified it because they were awful human beings. Clay Cox was a remorseless gang member—who knows how many lives Jonathan saved by killing him? And Cadogan Bates was taking advantage of vulnerable women, and with the way things were in Whitechapel no authorities would ever stop him. But then when his poor Mary returned, he’d realized that he had no right to pass judgement on others. He was a doctor, his job was to save people, not kill them. So he’d vowed to never take the life of someone outside of self-defense again. And only a few days later, much to his shame, he’d broken that vow with the serial killer of the Docks.

It was all too easy to justify killing when the hunger had its iron grip on him. All the murderers and criminals running around were just too easy to rationalize killing as cleaning the streets. Perhaps the only way he’d truly stop was by locking himself away from the temptation.

There was no use in dragging it out, he supposed and got out of the car. As he passed through the yard, things were busy as ever. White tents still spilled out in front of the hospital. He may have stopped one epidemic, but the influenza was still running its course. He checked patients for any conditions he could hand out a remedy for, but everyone was in remarkably good shape. It seemed Edgar might be using his new powers for some good after all.

It didn’t take long to collect his notes and materials in a few boxes he’d found lying about. He’d meant to have another chat with Edgar, but the administrator was out. Jonathan supposed he didn’t really need to be close to check in on him occasionally with their mind link, so he decided against waiting for his return. He once again checked to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, and his eyes happened upon the formerly dying plant, Lisa. Everyone was so busy at the hospital, he doubted the poor thing would get any water without him. He carefully placed the leafy plant in one of the boxes. He could leave it for his mother. He felt a twinge of guilt at leaving her alone in that house, but it was for the best.

He used the balcony exit from his room to get the boxes back to the automobile so he could avoid the questions that would come if people saw him lugging them out. His resignation letter was left on the bed. Afterwards, he drove to the West End. It was much nicer being able to drive through the streets than having to run around on foot. He didn’t need to worry about getting through Skals or Priwen patrols this way.

After parking the vehicle in front of his childhood home, Jonathan got out and headed towards his front door. He paused when he heard Clarence’s shouting about vampires and turned to see his old friend once again standing in the street in the middle of the night. His eyebrows drew together in concern and he started towards his friend.

If there’s one thing he could do before he left, it was making sure that Clarence wouldn’t be poisoned by his wife. Telling him hadn’t worked the first time, and he’d almost killed Venus in a rage. Thankfully, he’d restrained his anger with the knowledge that killing her would only make Clarence’s condition worse, but he wouldn’t just do nothing about it. The man gets back from fighting for his country—clearly traumatized by the war—and the thanks he gets is being poisoned by his own wife? He had to make Clarence see sense!

When Clarence noticed Jonathan’s approach, he smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hello, Jonny.  It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

“Yes. I had some things I needed to take care of. I’m only back now to wrap up loose ends, and then I’ll be leaving London for a while. How have you been, old chap?” Jonathan asked the last question carefully watching his friend’s reaction.

“I won’t lie. It hasn’t been well, especially after you told me my Venus is poisoning me. Who knows, perhaps it’s because of the poison,” he replied, frowning. His eyes seemed more glazed over than the last time Jonathan spoke to him, his face paler and gaunter.

“Please tell me that you’ve at least stopped taking the food and drinks she’s been making you?” Jonathan asked. His old friend’s condition was worse than he’d anticipated.

Clarence’s shoulders slumped. “What would be the point? If even my wife’s turned against me then what do I have left?”

Jonathan hated to see the hopelessness in his eyes. He didn’t know what he could say to that. With his parents dead, and Jonathan leaving London, Clarence’s support system was nonexistent to say the least. “But who else would warn the public about the vampire menace?” Jonathan hated to play into his friend’s paranoia, but it was all he could think of at the time.

Some strength made its way back into Clarence’s eyes and he straightened up. “You’re right, I’ve still a duty to this city. Thanks, Jonny. For believing me.”

“Of course, Clarence,” Jonathan forced a smile. “Well, I need to be off now, but please, get some rest.” He turned back towards his house but doubled around to head for the Crossley’s home when he was out of his line of sight.

He wouldn’t kill Venus, but surely he could use his power over the mind to make her turn herself into the authorities. It would look suspicious, sure, but that hardly mattered as he’d be leaving tomorrow night.

He didn’t waste time with pleasantries. As soon as Venus opened the door and invited him in, Jonathan grasped a hold of her mind with his power. He gave his command to turn herself in with the poison she was using as evidence tomorrow morning.

Her blue eyes were blank as she agreed, “Why yes, I will turn myself in tomorrow morning.”

“Good then,” Jonathan said and released his hold on her. She stumbled and looked around, confused.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice shrill and panicked.

“I wish you a peaceful night’s sleep,” Jonathan said mockingly, ignoring her question. She stared dumbfounded at his back as he left the house.

He strolled back to his house, feeling accomplished at doing some good without killing anybody. This is what I should have been doing, he told himself. Of course, he wasn’t sure it would work, since he’d never done a delayed command before. He supposed that he’d know by tomorrow night before he left.

He stopped in front of his home frowning. His mood settled back to somber as he prepared himself for saying a final goodbye to his mother. She wouldn’t last past the time he’d find an improved cure for the Blood of Hate. There was no fooling himself into thinking otherwise. He opened the door and was met with the face of his family’s old butler arranged into a frantic panic.

“Mr. Jonathan!” Avery said and rushed to hold the door for Jonathan, closing it behind him when he was in the foyer. “I’m afraid I’ve some terrible news, sir,” his tone was solemn.

A jolt of panic ran through Jonathan. Had his mother already died? Was he too late to say goodbye? “What is it? Where’s Mother?” Jonathan glanced around the room as if he expected to find her in the entryway.

“She’s wandered off again, sir. I haven’t been able to find her. I’ve alerted the police, but they are too busy to look right now. I’m so sorry.”

Jonathan rushed past him, up the stairs. From in the hallway, he could see that the door to her room was open. His concern grew. His mother’s room was always locked. And he knew that her wandering was from Mary mesmerizing her. His chest clenched, this wasn’t a coincidence. “How long ago did you notice she was gone?”

Avery, who had followed him up the stairs answered promptly, “It was around eight tonight, when she went into her room, sir.”

And she’d also disappeared in the evening. _No, not a coincidence_ , he thought. He strode into her room to look around for anything that could tell him what happened. Why would a vampire take his mother? There were many Ekons that held a grudge against him, but surely none of them would go as low as targeting a harmless old lady.

Who was he fooling? Few of the Ekons he’d met cared about morality.

Avery had followed Jonathan to his mother’s room and hovered near the doorway. “Her balcony door was opened when I first checked, but I don’t believe she could have left that way, sir. I just don’t know how she managed to get past me downstairs.”

Jonathan nodded along, but his mind was racing. “Thank you, Avery. That will be all for now,” he said to dismiss the man, so he could use his vampire senses without suspicion. If the balcony was open, then it was even more certain that she had been taken. He used his vision to search for any traces of blood, and a few dull red droplets stuck out from the rest of the room colored in grays. The droplets were on a folded note atop a small wooden table with a bulb shaped lamp, and Jonathan snatched it up.

Dried blood was spattered across the outside, but he couldn’t tell whose it was anymore. His vision went red when he imagined that it was likely his mother’s. He unfolded the note and read the hastily scrawled handwriting. It was addressed to him, as the only ‘Dr. Reid’ in the house with a simple message.

_If you want to save your mother, then come to the warehouse in the Docks across the river from the Turquoise Turtle. You’ll know it when you see it._

Jonathan ground his teeth together and crushed the note into one of his coat pockets. He didn’t know who took his mother or why, and there was nothing he could do but once again grab his weapons and quickly make some serums. He knew it was a trap, but it was also the only lead he had.

It seemed that his last night in London would be more eventful than he’d expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a double update, just in case you missed the last one. Next chapter will probably be pretty long, and we'll be going back to Geoffrey.  
> Thanks for sticking with me so far!


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey investigates a suspicious business proposition he received by mail.

The tenement in Whitechapel was yet another abandoned dwelling left in the wake of the Great War and the plague. The windows were boarded up and rats swarmed outside, scattering as Geoffrey approached. The night was cloudy again, blocking out the stars but he no longer had trouble seeing through the dark.

It had been four nights since Geoffrey woke as a vampire, and he was beginning to feel more in control of his powers. He was able to glean from the documents that the main source of the Nimrod’s unique ability to hide its nature was abstaining from human blood. Geoffrey assumed that he needed vampire blood regularly to sustain the power, although that part was ambiguous. He figured he must be doing something right because even Reid hadn’t seemed to notice anything different about him. He wondered if the leech doctor had figured out how to stop the epidemic yet.

He’d returned to the Priwen headquarters in Whitechapel and had explained his absence as having to take shelter in an abandoned dwelling until he shook off the adverse effects of King Arthur’s blood. He’d also written a memo that the negative effects of the relic weren’t worth using it and forbid anybody else from doing so. Someday, before he had to leave, he’d let his successor know exactly what it did. But for now, it was enough to forbid anyone else from using it.

He learned that they had to abandon the theater in the posh side of town as an outpost because somebody had alerted a detective about him and the Guard of Priwen. That meant that they’d have to be more cautious about patrolling the West End from now. If only the authorities would realize they were fighting to save humanity, but there wasn’t much point in trying to reveal the existence of vampires to the world. The information was easy to find if people wanted, but most would choose to continue living in the bliss of ignorance. He knew that from experience.

The only upside to his wretched new condition was that it was remarkably useful for killing leeches, and he was able to take on more of them alone than what he recommended a group of five of his men fight together. Of course, he’d only fought alone since he’d turned since he didn’t want to be tempted by spilled blood and reveal what he was now—or worse, attack his men. But Geoffrey knew that he’d need to figure out how to get this terrible thirst under control soon, or his men would become suspicious that their leader had suddenly stopped leading attacks.

He’d been considering whether or not he should resign. A leech really shouldn’t be leading the Guard of Priwen, but he’d practically rebuilt the Guard into what it was now from only a few veterans, and all but Michael were dead now. Michael was his second in command, but he’d been saying that he’d retire if he lived past the epidemic for a while. Woodbead would make a good leader, but he was too new to the fight. Everyone was serious about the cause now because there were so many lives lost from leeches recently, but what about when the epidemic ended and they went back into hiding? Geoffrey just wasn’t comfortable leaving the Guard to itself yet.

However, now wasn’t the time to dwell on those issues. He focused his vampire senses on the tenement before him, checking for any distinct leech heartbeats. Last night he’d received an intriguing letter from someone who wished to remain anonymous. Whoever the sender was, they wished the leader of the Ascalon Club dead and promised inside information to Geoffrey to help the Guard wipe out the club of leeches. Of course, Geoffrey immediately suspected a trap, but the bloody leech club had been on his target list for years so he figured that he could try it out as long as he stayed on his guard.

The abandoned dwelling made him even more suspicious, however. He was supposed to meet with a liaison of the sender to discuss details at this address. His vampire sight detected a human body on the first floor, all alone. But it wouldn’t be the first time a leech had gotten a human to work with them somehow. To be sure that the rest of the building was empty, he circled around it to the back checking carefully for any other heartbeats and found one on the second level. The much slower throbbing of the heart unambiguously identified the figure as a leech.

Just as he suspected, Geoffrey thought. He ground his teeth. The bastard thought he could trick him? He’d be sorry he even tried. He grinned and regarded the rickety balcony outside the room. It ran around the entire back of the building, and with little effort, Geoffrey shadow jumped onto it. He made sure to keep out of sight of the window of the room the vampire was in and headed into the door of the room adjacent. The door was locked, but it didn’t take much strength to break the cheap lock.

The room was small and had only a small bed with a stripped mattress, a grimy table, and an old chest at the foot of the bed that was left open. Geoffrey assumed that the rest was taken by the previous owner or looters.

He kept his steps as quiet as they could be with creaking floorboards and opened the door to what he assumed was the hallway. His newly sensitive hearing made every step seem even louder than usual, but he knew that most people—even leeches—wouldn’t notice any noise. He paused outside of the door the leech was in and used his blood sense to see that it was sitting at a desk and appeared to be writing.

Geoffrey readied his crossbow and kicked the door with enough force to break the jamb off. He quickly took in the details of the room. It was similar to the one next door, but for the lifeless body of what seemed to be one of the rotted leeches. He zeroed in on the live vampire, mildly surprised to see a posh-looking Ekon. Usually, those kinds never came around these parts, let alone holed up in a tenement. Reid being the exception, of course.

The posh leech didn’t even have time to get up as Geoffrey followed his ‘shoot first’ policy and landed a solid hit through his shoulder. He didn’t waste time and drew his sword to finish the fight. So much for the trap, Geoffrey thought with more than a little smugness.

He cried out in pain and raised his hands in surrender. “Wait! I’m not here to fight!”

Geoffrey paused raising his sword and put it in a defensive position instead. He scrutinized the vampire more closely with narrowed eyes. His dark eyes were frantically wide and not one dark lock escaped the tonic that slicked back his hair. His features were more on the feminine side, and with his long and skinny frame, it didn’t seem like he was much of a fighter. Of course, appearances met little when dealing with vampires, but the leech hardly seemed trained to fight either.

“If you didn’t want to fight then you shouldn’t have lured me in with a poorly concealed trap!” Geoffrey shot back, but his rage had already died down. Before he’d turned he wouldn’t have hesitated to finish the job, and now he was giving a leech a chance to explain himself? He’d better not be getting soft.

“It wasn’t met to be a trap! I just—please, would you put that away so we can talk like proper gentlemen?” the vampire asked indicating Geoffrey’s sword with a nod.

He smirked. “I don’t think so, leech. Besides the gentleman’s game is yours, not mine,” he said, making sure to keep his guard up. He backed up to a wall and stayed at an angle where he could keep watch of both doors and the window. Even the Ekon might be some sort of trap, talking so that Geoffrey would relax and his friends could ambush him.

The vampire took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said curtly. With a wince and a soft grunt, he yanked out the crossbow bolt. “I asked for your presence here because I have a proposition to make. Of course, knowing you’re…dislike for my kind, I figured it would be best to go through a middleman. Speaking of, you didn’t do anything to Robert, did you?”

“Robert?” Geoffrey asked with a raised brow. He assumed it was the human he’d thought was a distraction downstairs, but he was surprised by the leech’s concern for the man.

“The man downstairs, my butler. He’s a human.”

“I didn’t come from downstairs. Besides Priwen doesn’t kill humans.”

The vampire made a noncommittal “Mmm,” and it was obvious he didn’t believe that.

Geoffrey ignored the doubt. He didn’t care whether some beast believed him or not. Although he wondered if the reason the leech had personally come was to protect this Robert. The thought was strange, a leech caring about humans. But then, he cared, and Reid cared. Maybe it wasn’t all that farfetched. Or maybe his concern was put on in an attempt to gain Geoffrey’s trust. He figured the latter more likely.

“And what was this proposition you cared so much about that you’d oversee it yourself?” Geoffrey asked, deciding it was time to get back to the point. He didn’t know why he was hearing him out, but he had to admit he was intrigued about the vampire’s purposes.

“Well, I believe we have a common goal, Mr. McCullum. And I was hoping we might collaborate to see that goal to an end,” the vampire said vaguely.

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. A common goal? Was this vampire also a vampire hunter turned leech? “And just what do you believe to be my goal, beast?”

“Do you know of the Ascalon Club?”

Geoffrey frowned. He’d known about the blighted leech club for years. They were a bunch of high society vampires that liked to have their grubby hands in the politics of England. While the epidemic had lowered the police presence in the West End, he’d tried to lead a raid on their headquarters. However, few of the men he’d sent escaped.

He could accept that there were, perhaps, a few decent vampires—like the doctor and recently himself. But they were the exception, and the absolute last thing this country needed was a bunch of damned self-interested leeches running things from the shadows.

“…Aye, I know of the blighted club,” he answered cautiously. Was this to do with the common goal they supposedly shared? The only thing Geoffrey wanted when it concerned the Ascalon Club was to eradicate it.

“It’s not much of a stretch to assume that a man with your…occupation would want to see it destroyed. And that is our common goal, for I too would like to see it wiped from the planet. And its bloody leader dead,” the vampire’s voice was cold, and a curious mix of hatred and pain shone in his eyes. Either he wanted Redgrave, the leader, dead more than even Geoffrey or he was a very good actor.

With narrowed eyes, he looked over the vampire again. Not a hair was out of place, and the only sign of dishevelment was the blood from where he’d shot him. But there was a slump in his shoulders that seemed out of place for a man so finely dressed. “And why would you want Redgrave dead? The Guard of Priwen wasn’t made to fight a leech’s personal grudge.”

“As to why I want the man dead, the matter is private. All I’ll say is that he conspired to have someone whom I dearly cared for be killed, betraying the both of us. He did not kill him directly, but he’s just as responsible as the Ekon who actually killed him in my eyes.” The vampire’s jaw clenched and hurt welled up in his eyes again. He took a deep breath and his eyes shone with steely determination. “I won’t continue without avenging him, but unfortunately I’ve found that I’m not much of a fighter.” He bowed his head, apparently embarrassed at having to admit that.

Geoffrey wasn’t moved. His performance seemed genuine, but he was annoyed that the vampire expected Priwen to fight for him. “How pitiable, a vampire desperate enough to turn to a vampire hunter. But if you won’t be fighting yourself, then what are you offering? I won’t send my men to die for your revenge.”

“I have inside information on the Ascalon Club, and all of its members. In addition to that, I’ll provide you with anything else you need to take them all down. Money, weapons, and I could even get some wealthy donors interested in your cause. I’ve amassed a fortune over the centuries, and I’ll part with all of it just to see Lord Redgrave dead.” The look in the vampire’s eyes was one Geoffrey saw often in recruits whose loved ones had been slaughtered by leeches, a desperate revenge that could tear you up if it went unfulfilled for too long. It was a look that he’d used to see in the mirror after his newly turned father had torn out his mother’s throat. But he also knew that running on revenge wasn’t sustainable, and overtime the blazing inferno had died down, and he’d just been tired. It wasn’t until he shifted his purpose from revenge to protecting innocents that he’d recovered that fire. It burned less hot, but it wouldn’t die down anytime soon.

“Well, Priwen could use the funds, no denying that. But what about the other vampire?” He couldn’t believe he was considering the vampire’s proposition, but when the epidemic ended, they wouldn’t be able to loot abandoned houses anymore. They’d need to get money from somewhere, and the offer was pretty promising in that aspect.

The vampire looked away. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it myself. Although I can’t best him in a one-on-one fight, there are other ways. But I want to deal with him personally.”

Geoffrey regarded the vampire, silently considering. “I don’t know about dealing with someone I don’t even have a name for.”

“I see, you’d like to look for information your order might have gathered on me. But, fine. If that’s what if takes, then I am Sir Endecott Humphrey.”

The name didn’t ring any bells, but that didn’t necessarily mean that they had no information on him. He hadn’t memorized the name of every single suspected vampire after all.

“I’ll accept your money and your information, and it will be of help in killing the Ascalon Club and any other vampire threat London faces. But I don’t trust you, leech. And if I see any signs you might be leading the Guard into a trap, then I will not hesitate to kill you next time.” Luckily, he didn’t have to reveal that he was a vampire, so he could still use that as a surprise advantage.

Humphrey seemed surprised that Geoffrey accepted his offer, but he covered it up quickly. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing my offer is genuine,” was his only response to Geoffrey’s threat.

They set up where the Guard could pick up the payments and a where to send any communication for Humphrey to pick up. Humphrey was as cautious as Geoffrey because the location would change with each week and he’d send the new locations by mail as well but under different names.

“I’ll send you the new location sometime tomorrow night, and you can expect £500 there as well,” Humphrey concluded. Geoffrey grunted his assent and Humphrey held out his hand to shake, saying, “Glad to do business with you.”

Geoffrey glared at the hand as if it were a snake. He ignored it in favor of another threat. “Remember, leech. If I find any suspicious business…”

Humphrey dropped his hand. “Yes, yes. You’ll hunt me down. I get it.” It grated on Geoffrey how unconcerned he seemed with the threats, but figured that if this did turn out to be a trap he’d be in for a rude awakening. He hadn’t gotten a chance to drink Ekon blood yet, and listening to it rush through Humphrey’s veins made him itch for a taste.

On that note, the two parted ways. Geoffrey had another issue to look into in the West End. A few units posted in the area had reported a young woman going around eating rats, saying that someone was making her. It reeked of leech mind tricks, and one of Priwen’s highest priorities was stopping those types who’d ruin people’s lives. Those types were the hardest for the Guard to fight—and possibly the most detrimental to the city.

But he’d find the woman to confirm for himself.

It didn’t take too long to find her, this Carina Billow. And it took only a short conversation to confirm his men’s suspicions. Of course, the poor woman couldn’t say the name of the leech tormenting her, and Geoffrey would just have to put a patrol to watch her until the monster showed himself. Although the woman’s mind was so broken that he wasn’t sure killing the beast that did it to her would fix it.

Geoffrey hoped that it wouldn’t take too long to find the bastard, so he could rip it apart for what it’s done.

He was so caught up in his revenge fantasy that he didn’t even notice the leech doctor until he almost ran into him.

“McCullum!” Reid said, his thick brows raised. He glanced around and narrowed his eyes. “What exactly are you doing here?”

The vampire’s obvious suspicion put Geoffrey on guard. “I don’t see how that would be any of your business, leech.” There was no reason to tell him, especially since the doctor was a possible suspect. Although it didn’t seem much like Reid’s style. He found himself wondering what the vampire had been up to. Did he stop the source of the infection as he said he would, or was he still working on it? And why did he seem so agitated right now?

Reid stared at Geoffrey with narrowed eyes, and Geoffrey met his hard gaze without flinching. He hadn’t realized before, but the doctor’s eyes were a shockingly pale blue that stood out against his dark hair and dark attire. There was a strength in his gaze, but also an underlying desperate sort of panic. Geoffrey wondered what had the vampire so rattled, and then realized their staring contest had gone on for longer than was socially appropriate, but he refused to be the first to look away.

Reid seemed to have realized the same. He cleared his throat and nodded once, more to himself. “Well, then. If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine.” Geoffrey was going to snidely remark on not needing the leech’s permission to keep his business private, but Reid quickly made his leave, saying, “I must get going now,” before turning to leave.

“And where are you going?” Geoffrey asked. The vampire’s behavior seemed more suspicious than normal.

He paused and looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, vampire hunter.”

Geoffrey scowled, and Reid seemed to disappear in a cloud of black shadow. But Geoffrey’s new senses allowed him to track the shadow to a nearby balcony easily enough. He followed the vampire’s trail with narrowed eyes. Although it didn’t seem likely that Reid was the beast torturing Miss Billow, his behavior was still suspicious.

Deciding that he didn’t have much else to do tonight, he looked around to make sure nobody was around this late at night. When he found the coast was clear, he shadow jumped to the balcony as well, and silently followed the unsuspecting vampire doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this is late! I meant to get more done over break, but time kind of ran away on me. At least I'm pretty much done with the setup now, and Geoffrey and Jonathan finally met up! They'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on as well ; )  
> Sir Humphrey and Lord Finney (who was mentioned in chapter 2) are two of the enemies that you fight who are randomly named for some reason. My friends and I thought that was a bit weird since they weren't bosses or minibosses, so we had a running joke with them that I built on for this story. I don't want to give too much away about them yet, but I thought I should explain where they're from to avoid confusion.  
> Thank you so much for sticking with me this far, and for all of the encouraging feedback!!  
> I hope to post the next chapter by Sunday, it shouldn't take me much time to write.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We go back to Jonathan to see how he's going to save his mother.

Jonathan was once again pleased to note the lack of enraged Skals out on the streets. He only came across one Skal on the way to the Docks, although he still had to dodge around five different patrols of Priwen guards. It seemed that the vampire hunters were effectively cleaning up the rest of the Skal epidemic. Their hatred of all vampires aside, at least they cared about protecting the people of London enough to be out risking their lives. He respected that, even if it was more than a little annoying to be attacked as soon as he was spotted. 

Jonathan found himself doubly glad that he’d spared McCullum, who knew where the Guard of Priwen would be if their leader were dead. He thought back to their short conversation and couldn’t help but grin. At first, he’d thought that the vampire hunter might have been the one who’d taken his mother. But if that were the case then he would have announced it, as he had when his men had taken Edgar. And the note probably would’ve been addressed to ‘Leech’, instead of his name. Geoffrey McCullum was nothing if not straightforward, and that was what Jonathan appreciated about the man. They may not be friendly, but now that he’d finally got it through that thick skull that they weren’t enemies, Jonathan doubted he’d have much trouble from the hot-headed vampire hunter. Well, at least not for the short time that it would take to find his mother before he’d be locked up for possibly decades in a crypt.

One thing he could know for sure now was that whoever took his mother wasn’t McCullum. Besides, he could be reasonably sure that they were an Ekon. 

He walked through the docks and past the Turquoise Turtle. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. The usual night owls were loitering around, but besides that the worn down cobbled streets were empty. It didn’t take too long to find the right warehouse, as there was really only one across from the pub.

Jonathan shadow jumped across the river and quietly stalked next to the building. He used his blood vision to get a sense of the trap that he’d most definitely be walking into. There were a few—he could count 5 from his vantage point—human sized forms that he could see through the wall. There slower than human heart beats distinguished them as either Skals or Ekons, but possibly more troubling were the three giant figures that were either the wolfmen or the Vulkods. Either one meant a difficult, if not impossible fight. They were all on the ground floor, and when he looked up he noticed a faint human heartbeat lying prone on the upper level. Blood pooled around it, which meant that they’d be heavily injured. He squinted at the figure, unable to discern who it was from the faintness of the heartbeat, but it must be his mother if the note was telling the truth.

Quietly as possible he pulled out his sword and the shotgun he’d bought from Milton, but those were only for if his first plan failed. He figured he could use his power to cloak himself in shadows and sneak past them to get his mother out before they had a chance to react. He was fairly certain he’d be able to outrun them even when carrying his mother. 

Unfortunately, his first plan fell apart as soon as he stepped through the door and an ear-shattering screech from a Skal who was surprisingly well-dressed alerted everyone to his presence. 

The Skal lunged at him, an attack that wasn’t difficult to dodge away from, but the others worked as a well-coordinated team and followed right after the blind Skal to surround him. It was all he could do to back up against the cool concrete wall so his back was safe from attack, although that wouldn’t do much good. He just barely had enough time to call the shadows so that they spiked up from the ground in front of him and hit two of the large beasts which were standing next to each other, but to his dismay it didn’t take either of them out of the fight. 

Jonathan cursed. These vampires were stronger than he’d anticipated and now he had to take on eight at once by himself—and of those eight one was a hulking Vulkod while two more were hulking wolfmen. The other five were Skals, but they weren’t the enraged ones he was used to fighting. Not only were they wearing fine clothing, but they also all attacked as a cohesive unit. Even the wolfmen worked as with the group. Whenever he went to hit one, at least two others would attack him from his unguarded sides, and he’d have to abandon the attack to dodge or take the hit. Although even dodging would get him a few claw swipes from somewhere else. Within seconds Jonathan was overwhelmed and only able to defend from about half the attacks. To make matters worse, with barely any time to even dodge, he couldn’t find another even half second opening to use any of his powers. 

Already, Jonathan had to fight through the pain of multiple injuries. He didn’t even have time to tell where he’d gotten hit, just that it was too much at once for them to heal with his enhanced healing. There was a burning in both of his arms, his torso, and his thigh and he knew that the blood loss would take its toll soon if it hadn’t already. Meanwhile, he’d only really managed to critically injure one of the Skals when he blasted him with his shotgun at a close range. Another shot might have finished him off, but it’s not as if there was time to reload.

They were slowly closing in on him. If it kept up like this, he’d be even more fucked. He needed to get out of this circle of claws and fangs. Setting his jaw, he lunged at full speed, slashing at one of the Skals in an attempt to create an opening to get out. The sword hit, but the Skal had blinked away before it could cut deep. Even worse, the Vulkod that had been next to the Skal shifted before Jonathan could take advantage of the opening and swiped at him. He avoided the hit, but only by running into one of the beasts which took the opportunity to grab him and sink its jagged teeth into his throat. 

A rush of pain swept through him, starting at the bite and seeming to hit every nerve ending in his body. It wasn’t a clean bite, and he knew that the side of his neck would be nothing but a bloodied, mangled mess. Jonathan desperately grasped at the huge clawed fingers holding him, kicking his legs out to find any purchase. Claws from his other attackers shredded straight through his coat into his back, leaving an icy, and yet sickeningly wet, pain all across his back. Panic overrode the adrenaline from the fight. How could he possibly get out of this alive now? He was being attacked from all sides while being grappled by a giant mass of muscle and fur.

But he couldn’t give up here, not now. He’d survived the deadliest war in history, been attacked on his way back and turned into a vampire, and fought some blood goddess to save the city. After all of that, he could at least save his mother. Far too many people had already died directly because of him—his poor sister among them. He wouldn’t let his mother join the list of his casualties.

His renewed determination gave him the strength to focus his powers on gathering the shadows for his deadliest attack, and the beast was forced to let go of him as it was impaled on inky black spikes and lifted into the air. Horrible shrieking that was stuck somewhere between animal and human filled the air as the spikes pierced its helpless body, and its corpse hit the ground when the shadows stopped. However, Jonathan didn’t have time to celebrate his victory as his enemies still surrounded him. And although they were momentarily stunned by Jonathan’s vicious attack, it only gave him enough time to use the last of his blood to partially heal himself before they continued their attacks. Again, he could barely get in even a single attack, and a thread of panic began to creep back through his adrenaline as he was hit again and again on all sides. It was beginning to seem as if his renewed comeback would be shorter lived than he’d hoped.

The hulking Vulkod grabbed Jonathan by his throat, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to take another heavy hit and still come out alive. The Vulkod’s grip around his neck tightened, and his vision started to tunnel and there was so much pressure to his head that it felt as if it might pop off. 

Suddenly a loud blast broke over the muted sound of his struggles. The Vulkod dropped him and several bangs followed, which Jonathan belatedly realized were shots from a gun that scattered the Skals away from him allowing him to shake off his daze. He didn’t know who had helped him, but he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the lull to bite into the neck of the dazed Vulkod kneeling in front of him. 

The distinctly bitter and strong iron taste of the Vulkod’s blood filled his mouth. As he greedily drank its lifeforce, his wounds healed rapidly, finally bringing some relief to his battered body. He was barely cognizant of more shots echoing throughout the warehouse as his helper covered him.

Jonathan pulled himself away from the Vulkod, brutally ripping his throat in the process and stabbed his sword that he’d somehow managed to hold onto straight through the top of its head before it could recover enough to push him off. 

He glanced around to assess what had happened while he was preoccupied. The remaining beast and three of the Skals still had him surrounded, but two of them had left and he saw them attacking his helper who was fighting them back with a sword. 

Hold up, Jonathan thought as his helper’s form passed through his line of sight. Was that…It couldn’t be.

He was so stunned by the identity of the man who’d suddenly showed up to help him that one of the Skal’s attacks almost got him by surprise. Jonathan shook off his shock and slashed at the Skal, who dodged out of the way. But there weren’t enough enemies to fill the gap it left behind this time, and Jonathan shadow jumped through the opening.

“McCullum!” he called out, his tone conveying his surprise and concern all at once. He headed towards the vampire hunter that he’d thought would have no qualms watching him die until a few seconds ago. He was grateful for the help, of course. Without it he’d be dead, but the arrogant hunter was only a human taking on two tough Skals at once. He ran towards the man at once to help.

There was a bit of surprise when McCullum had already taken the head off one of his attackers before Jonathan got to them. The vampire hunter must have been more capable than their fight at the Pembroke had let on. The other Skal tried to jump on the hunter, but he dodged out of the way at a speed that was remarkably fast for a human. Jonathan wondered if it was the effects of King Arthur’s blood. He’d need to warn McCullum that it was vampire’s blood, and the effects likely wouldn’t be all beneficial even if it was a dead vampire’s blood. But that could wait until later. If they made it out of this alive, that was.

Jonathan shadow jumped to the Skal who was stumbling after its miss. He rammed into it from behind, knocking it down before Geoffrey could strike back at it with his sword. Without hesitation, he wrenched its head back and bit into its neck. Although feeding in front of the over-zealous vampire hunter wasn’t ideal, there was little choice in the matter since he was low on blood after all the healing he had to do.

Jonathan’s bite finished it off, and he straightened up, preparing to face the hunter’s disgust, but surprisingly McCullum didn’t seem all that perturbed. He’d just moved to cover Jonathan’s back as he fed. He must have been too preoccupied with the fight to react.

The remaining three Skals had caught up and were surrounding them, but two were heavily injured and stayed further back. The last wolfman held its wounded stomach and stood back from the fight watching for the best opportunity to strike while it took time to heal a bit, again showing an intelligence unlike any of the other beasts Jonathan had fought before.

The uninjured Skal jumped towards McCullum as he went after one of the injured ones, and Jonathan hurried to intercept the attack with his blade. His swing cut through most of its neck and it only took one last thrust with his sword to finish him.

“It took you long enough to rejoin the fight, vampire,” McCullum said, although his tone was lighter than Jonathan was used to. He had dodged away from the Skal’s attack, which briefly put him out of range of the other two.

“What are you doing here?” Jonathan asked. Both of the remaining Skals swiped at him, trying to take advantage of his slight distraction, but he shadow jumped back to avoid it.

“What? Not even a thank you? I thought you posh types cared more about manners,” Geoffrey responded. He shot one of the Skals with a shotgun as it was readying to jump at them, which brought it down.

Jonathan’s response was cut off when the beast rushed him from the side and he narrowly jumped back in time to avoid it.

“You take care of the big one. I can handle the smaller one on my own,” the hunter called out to him.

Jonathan was about to protest, vampire hunter or no, a one on one fight with a Skal was hardly a good idea for a human. But the beast ran at him again, giving him no choice but to hope the hunter could hold his own. He at least seemed to be doing well thus far.

He finished off the wolfman quickly. Since there was only one, he could dodge around it and use his powers with the shadows without worrying about being attacked by someone else. After the beast was dead, he turned to help McCullum, but he’d already finished off the Skal. 

“It seems as though you’ve improved since I last saw you fight,” Jonathan remarked. Which was when you attacked me, he thought, but decided against bringing that specific detail up. Against all odds, the man did just save his life, after all.

There was a brief look of panic on the hunter’s face, but Jonathan blinked and it was gone. McCullum shrugged. “If you say so. I’m at least not dumb enough to walk into a trap without a plan,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I had a—” Before Jonathan could finish defending himself, a shadowy blur jumped right next to the vampire hunter.

It was over in the blink of an eye. One moment the hunter was standing casually, and the next a curved sword was sticking out from near center of his chest. Both of them were so shocked that they just stared at his wound for a few moments as blood soaked McCullum’s shirt. Jonathan belatedly realized that the blur that attacked him was an Ekon, standing behind the man still. He had a cruel sneer on a long face and long dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck which would have been fashionable about a hundred years ago. Unlike most other Ekons he’d seen, this one was dressed not in finery, but clothes that he’d expect to see on an average person in London. McCullum turned to look at his attacker and the Ekon chose that moment to yank the blade out with a sickening meat slicing sound, and the hunter collapsed to the ground.

“Geoffrey!” Jonathan shouted, and rushed forward to help, but the Ekon shadow jumped in front of him. Jonathan cursed and raised his sword to defend himself. He glanced at McCullum laying still on the ground. He had to finish this quickly or the hunter would be dead for sure.

He lunged towards the Ekon, swiping at him from the left as he called up the shadows to spike out to the right of him. The vampire fell for his trap and jumped right into the spot where the shadows erupted from a split second later.

The Ekon’s arrogant smirk turned into a snarl of pain as he jumped out of the attacking shadows. 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?” Jonathan yelled at the Ekon while they were separated by the erupting shadow cloud.

He sneered. “The last thing we want is a self-righteous Ekon running around ruining the fun. You’re even worse than the humans who think they’re anything but prey,” he said and spat towards McCullum’s fallen body.

Jonathan knew there was no sense in trying to reason with him from the sheer vitriol in his tone. He wasn’t like McCullum or Redgrave, who did what they thought would protect London. No, the Ekon before him was just pure, irrational hatred not unlike that caused by the blood of hate.

He readied to attack. The “we” in his statement bothered him, and so if possible, he wanted to keep the Ekon alive for questioning.  
However, before he could even finish readying his attack, a shadowy form streaked through the air and jumped onto the Ekon. For the second time, Jonathan was in shock and all he could do was gape with widened eyes as the decidedly not so human Geoffrey McCullum tore into the Ekon’s throat.  
He’d suspected something was different about the hunter. He was faster and stronger than the night they’d fought, and now that he was paying attention, his blood smelled a bit off from a human’s. But he never would have expected that the man was a vampire—an Ekon.  
Who turned him? Jonathan remembered the night they’d fought, and the nasty inclination to make the man understand his position by turning the hunter into what he so loathed. But he didn’t because he knew that would have been too cruel. He didn’t want to become the sort of person who relished in exacting his twisted form of justice.

But did that mean that somebody else had the same idea? What other reason would somebody have to turn a vampire hunter?  
He shook himself out of his shock. He could ask questions later, but for now he needed to save his mother and find out about any others who might be coming after him and those he loved.

McCullum pulled back from the Ekon, who was still weakened and dazed by the surprise attack. The hunter-turned-Ekon raised his sword—and Jonathan realized that he was about to kill the only one who could give them answers.

“Wait, McCullum! Don’t—” 

He was too late. McCullum cleaved his sword straight through the vampire’s neck before Jonathan could stop him.  
Jonathan sighed. “Dammit, McCullum.”

The man in question glared defensively at Jonathan when he heard his statement. “Did you think I’d go softer on leeches just because I’ve become one, Reid?” He bent down and wiped the blood from his sword and onto the dead Ekon’s clothes.

“No, I certainly wouldn’t expect that from you,” Jonathan said dryly. “But I would have liked to question him about what this whole trap was about and how many more vampires might be after me.”

McCullum paused, frowning. He got back up but didn’t put his sword away. Instead he glanced around them, as if expecting another attack to begin at any moment. Which wasn’t a stretch, considering what had just happened.

“You know, when I decided I should follow you, I didn’t expect your goal would be to walk into an obvious trap.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “…And tell me, why did you decide to follow me?”

McCullum shrugged, a small smile betraying his amusement. “You were acting suspicious.”

Jonathan huffed. “After everything, you still suspect me?”

McCullum’s grin widened. “I’d say that’s what saved your life. So, you’re welcome for that, vampire.”

Jonathan sighed. “You do know that it’s ridiculous for you to still be referring to me as ‘vampire’ even after becoming an Ekon yourself… However that came to happen.”

“I’ll call you how I like, leech,” McCullum snapped back, although it didn’t have the same malice as from their previous encounters.

Jonathan shook his head. He noted that the man didn’t seem inclined to share just how he’d become a vampire since their fight. “Well thank you for your help. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to attend to my mother,” Jonathan said, and shadow jumped up to the balcony.

There was a soft thud from McCullum landing on the balcony from behind him. “Your mother?”

There was no harm in telling the hunter, Jonathan decided. He doubted that McCullum was still out for him blood after saving his life. “She’s the reason I came here and walked into the trap. I returned to my family home to find that my mother had disappeared, and the only clue I had was a note telling me to come here,” he explained as he walked brusquely towards where he could see the quick heartbeat.

“And you just came without any sort of plan?” Geoffrey said incredulously.

Jonathan rounded on him. “For god’s sake, she’s my mother. The note was the only thing I had to go on, and I couldn’t leave her to god knows what fate for longer than was necessary.”

Geoffrey was surprised by his outburst, but quickly schooled his features back into his casual expression. “Well that’s…” he trailed off as he noticed the human lying on the floor, back against the wall. “Is your mother for some reason a middle-aged man, Reid?”

“What are you—” Jonathan started and turned to look. 

While the man who was bleeding from an open wound on the floor certainly couldn’t be mistaken for his mother, Jonathan did quickly recognize him. “Oswald?”

Why had his attackers captured the man who stays near the Pembroke Hospital?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update! School has me busier than I thought, and on top of that I underestimated how hard writing a fight scene would be. If you all have any suggestions for improvement, then that would be really helpful because there will be a few more to write.  
> I won't make any promises on when the next chapter will be out, but I'll get it out as soon as I can!  
> As always, thank you for all of the comments and kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> So the idea of Geoffrey turning from King Arthur's blood comes from an interesting theory I found on reddit: www.reddit.com/r/Vampyr/comments/952r9a/spoilers_the_truth_about_geoffrey_mccullum/  
> I really like that theory, so I'm using a version of it here.   
> This is the first time I've been motivated enough to write a fanfiction, and since I have the whole thing plotted out I'm pretty confident in being able to finish it. There are 17 chapters plus a prologue and epilogue that I have planned, but I might have to split some of them because they might be too long. I'm planning to get a chapter out at least once a week, but some weeks might be too busy since I'm in college.  
> Thank you for reading! I'd appreciate any feedback you might have. : )


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